Mia kneaded the bread, folding the dough in half, then once again. She repeated the action several more times to make sure all the flour was good and blended. She placed the large mound of dough into the bowl, covered it with a thin dishtowel, and set it on the still-warm stovetop, gently pushing the coffeepot out of the way.

She poured the last of the coffee into her cup then rinsed the pot out and placed it on the counter, knowing Josiah would want a couple of cups with his lunch, which she would need to start soon.

Glancing at the pretty brass clock sitting on the mantel above the fireplace, she realized soon was already here. The morning had sped by in a blur and it was almost noon. With a long sigh, she sat at the table and sipped her coffee. The heat seeped through her and relaxed her sore arm muscles, which still shook. She hadn’t made bread in years. The last time had been when the cook at the school had gotten sick with influenza, so she and Jessamine had taken it upon themselves to learn how.

The first couple of batches had been disasters, but by the third, both girls had thoroughly taken to the task and had actually begun to enjoy the pounding and kneading of the dough. Mia even created a sweetbread by adding sugar to the dough then, just before baking, brushing the loaves with butter and drizzling milk and sprinkling cinnamon on top. Everyone loved it.

It had been a few years since she’d thought about baking. Teaching had been paramount and had taken every minute of her day. She loved being with the children, especially at reading time. Depending on which book she chose, the students would get immersed in the story. Bringing the characters to life for them was the best part. In a way, it was like giving them an escape from their own lives for a moment in time. It was how she’d coped with her own life growing up.

“Mia?”

"Hmmm?" She glanced around to find Summer standing by the table. “Did you need something?”

“Well, I was wondering if you would teach me how to do something like that.”

Mia frowned, not understanding what the girl meant. “Something like what?”

Summer pointed at the bread bowl. “What you were doing a minute ago—with that?”

“You want to learn how to make bread?”

Summer nodded. “I want to learn how to make things to eat, for Billy.”

Tears burned behind Mia’s eyes, but she refused to let the nine-year-old see how her words affected her. She knew Summer would not appreciate the emotion. “I would love to teach you how to cook. That’s what I was thinking about when you asked. Not the cooking part, but the teaching. That’s what I did in New York. I was a teacher at an orphanage. That’s a school for children who don’t have a family to take care of them, so they live full time at the school.” She met Summer’s steady brown gaze. “It’s where I grew up, too.”

Summer’s brows twitched as if she started to frown but stopped. “You didn’t have a family?”

“No. The headmistress found me on the front steps of the orphanage in a basket with my name written on a note pinned to my blanket. My arm had been badly broken and set in a cast. I’ve lived there my entire life, and stayed to teach the new children who came to live there.

“I would like to teach you and Billy, since you aren’t in school here. Would you let me do that? You can learn how to read and write, American and world history, and anything else you might be interested in—including cooking.” She hesitated, then gave Summer a tentative smile. “Would you like that?”

“Our last teacher told me and Billy we were…dense…and could never learn much of anything.”

Mia shook her head and bit back her angry retort about the teacher’s obvious stupidity. “Everyone learns a little differently and at different stages. What is easy for one person may be difficult for another. Take me, for instance. Numbers are not easy for me, but I studied hard and after a lot of late nights, I finally memorized my multiplication tables and passed my exam. I won’t lie to you, it wasn’t easy, but I wanted to pass. The only person holding you back, Summer, is you.”

Mia stood and rinsed out her cup and set it on the counter. Opening the pie safe, she took out the loaf of bread she’d baked the day before. She then pulled out the brown-paper wrapped ham and cheese as well as the brown mustard for sandwiches.

“Will you please grab the pickle crock for me?”

She quickly put together several sandwiches for everyone and set them on a plate. Next, she pulled out five or six pickles from the crock and placed them in a bowl. Lastly, she took out the nutmeg bread she’d thrown together as a last-minute idea and sliced it into thick pieces and placed them on another plate. Digging in the bottom cabinet, she took out a rather battered-looking tray and set it on the table.

“It’s not elegant, but it will do.” She put the sandwich plate on top of the extra plates then set them beside the bowl of pickles. The dessert plates came next forming a circle. In the center, she added a pitcher of lemonade for balance. “Summer, will you carry the four glasses for me, please?”

“You sure are going to a lot of trouble for just lunch,” she mumbled, but picked up the glasses and followed Mia outside.

Each step she took toward the barn was slow and measured, but she finally made it and set the tray on the end of the wagon bed, which was sitting in front of the corral by the door. “Is anyone hungry?” she called.

“We are!” Billy squealed from somewhere inside and raced outside then slid to a stop by twisting his small body sideways and sliding on the sides of his boots, sending up a puff of dirt toward them.

Summer jumped in front of the food and waved her arms to divert the descending dust. “Would you stop it! I don’t want to eat dirt-covered food!”

Billy hung his head. “I’m sorry. Did I ruin lunch?”

“No,” Mia chuckled. “I think Summer jumped in and saved everything just in time. But, even if there are a few grains of dirt in the food, I’m sure no one will say a thing.”

“I will,” Summer muttered. “I don’t want to eat dirt.”

“I’m sorry, Summer. I promise not to do it again.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Yes, you will. You’re a little boy. That’s what little boys do. I’d be worried if you didn’t. Now come and get your sandwich.”

Billy’s worried expression immediately disappeared at the mention of food, but he managed to walk the few steps to the wagon and hold out his hands for his plate. “Can you carry my lemonade, Summer? I don’t wanna spill a single drop.”

Mia shook her head as she turned to fix Josiah’s plate, then bit back a squeal when her husband wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her back against his chest, his breath warm against her cheek.

“You are doing an amazing job with them…and me, iskitini chukfi luma,” he whispered and nibbled her ear.

She giggled. “Are you ever going to call me anything but little rabbit?”

He pretended to think. “No. The name fits you. And I’m starving.”

“Let me go and I’ll fix you a plate.”

“I never said I was starving for food.”

Her gaze flew to the children, making sure neither of them heard what he’d just said. “Josiah West, you can’t say things like that!”

“Yes, I can. You’re my wife, and it’s the truth. I look at you and the thought of food is the last thing on my mind.” He nuzzled her neck and kissed the tender skin, making her stomach clench.

Her smile grew and from the heat covering her face, she knew she was bright red but at that moment it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but Josiah. To know her own husband cared enough to want her like he said he did was a heady and amazing sensation. She never knew marriage could be like this. Her only experience had been what she had witnessed from a distance. She'd never been close to anyone with a spouse to learn about such things, so she hoped this feeling continued to grow with their marriage.

Before things really got out of hand, she fixed their plates while Josiah poured their drinks. They joined Summer and Billy, who were almost finished.

“Summer, would you like to tell Billy what we talked about? Maybe ask his opinion about school?” Mia glanced at the nine-year-old. When she sat up straighter, Mia was glad she’d asked Summer. The girl needed a bit of self-confidence and, like with most girls her age, it would be the little things that made the difference.

Billy scowled, his gaze moving between Summer and Mia. “You want us to go to school?”

“You will be learning the same things you would in school, you just wouldn’t be walking to the schoolhouse. I will be teaching them to you. Remember when we talked the other morning, when I read Tom Sawyer to you? I told you I was a teacher. I know I can help you—both of you—learn wonderful things. Amazing things. There’s an entire world out there to discover, and I would love to show it to you. Will you let me?”

“Put like that, I’d even go back to school,” Josiah said and gave Mia a quick kiss on the cheek. “Billy, why don’t you think about it while we finish the corral fence? Mr. Colyer and his men will be here tomorrow with our cattle, so we better get busy if we’re going to be done by day’s end.” He stood then leaned over again. With a finger under Mia’s chin, he tilted her face toward his and kissed her. “That was my thank you for such a delicious lunch.”

She covered her lips with the tips of her fingers, as if to press his kiss there. She had no experience with loving someone, other than the affection she'd had for her friends. But the feeling inside her heart when she thought about her husband was so intense—at times, it scared her. It was as if she couldn’t breathe without him by her side, and she had never been dependent on someone like that before. Was she in love? She had no idea and let out a small sigh. There would be plenty of time to figure it out, but for the time being, she had other things that needed to get done.

She helped Summer gather up the dishes but only made it halfway across the yard when Harjo and another man rode in on a heavy cloud of dust. Coughing, they tried without success to wave away the dust-filled air, and they gave up.

“Sorry ’bout that, Mia.” Harjo said, glancing back at the house. “You’ve made this place a real home. My deputies and I may have helped rebuild the structure, but you and the children have filled it with life—something my friend needed. Speaking of, is Josiah around?”

“I’m over here.”

Harjo turned in the saddle and waited for Josiah to join them.

“For you to be in such a hurry, I take it something happened?”

Harjo nodded. “The two thieves who hit the mercantile with Johnny the other day have added a few more men and they hit Calyer’s place early this morning. Stole a hundred head or so and killed two of his men. Calyer wanted me to let you know he’ll make good on your deal and already has your cows and steer separated. You’ll just have to go get them. He’s got two funerals to prepare for. Afterward, they’ll send out a group of men to pick up Bass Reeves near Van Buren. He’ll report to Judge Parker while me and my men search for these scoundrels before they kill anyone else. Judge Parker and Reeves have jurisdiction over Calyer and the two murders, but anything done to the Creek, Cherokee, or Seminole will fall to us to resolve.”

“Well, that’s a problem—”

“Josiah!” Billy ran out of the barn and skidded to a stop when he saw Harjo staring at him. He took a tentative step back, indecision warring on his face as he tried to decide whether to run back to the barn or stay put.

“Are these the two you were searching for the other night?” Harjo asked.

Josiah motioned with a quick wave of his hand for Billy to move closer and patiently waited until he did. Finally, the youngster dragged his feet until he stood beside him. Josiah laid his hand on the seven-year-old’s shoulder. “Harjo, this is Billy Durant, and over there is his cousin, Summer. They’re going to be living with us from now on.”

“Josiah—”

Josiah met Harjo’s gaze. “Don’t. They will be living with me and my wife. Mia will be teaching them because the school has refused to. They have no other family. Is it the Creek way to let the children scrounge for scraps and fend for themselves?”

Harjo nodded toward the other lighthorseman who'd ridden in with him. “This is Jacob. Your house is on his route, so he’ll be riding by periodically to check on you and make sure everything is all right until these outlaws are caught."

Mia glanced over at the other man. The only indication he noticed anything was said was a brief dip of his head to one side. She wasn’t sure she liked anyone checking up on them, but if there were bad men close by…

She wrapped one arm around Summer’s shoulders and gave the girl a slight squeeze. “All right then. If you men will excuse us, we have some lessons to attend to. Billy, please come with us inside.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Summer giggled and ran ahead but Mia heard Josiah tell Harjo there were other children in the forest. This was news to her. Why hadn’t he said anything before about them?

The minute they were inside and the screen door slammed shut behind them Summer burst out laughing. “He didn’t even argue, he was so scared!”

“Was not!” Billy hollered and pushed her away.

“Now, now, you two. I’ll have none of that. Harjo is Josiah’s best friend and looks after him, like Summer looks after you, Billy. You understand that, don’t you?” Mia followed the procession of Billy’s thoughts as he pondered over what she said.

“I guess so.”

“Think about it this way. If you knew there were people nearby who might hurt Summer, would you want to leave her alone or let someone you didn’t know be near her?”

“No.” His eyes widened. “Harjo thinks me or Summer might hurt Josiah? But he’s a grown man. We can’t hurt him.”

Mia smiled and put the dirty dishes in the sink to wash up later. “How about we figure out where to start our lessons? I want to see just how smart you two really are.” She couldn’t help but see the worried glance Summer gave Billy, but they followed her to the table and sat beside each other while she pulled out books and two slates from the school supplies she’d brought from New York.

After several hours of going over simple math problems, basic science, history, as well as spelling and reading, Mia wanted to scream. Finally, while Billy practiced his letters on his slate, she cleaned Summer’s slate and wrote a few simple addition problems then handed it back to Summer.

“There. Study those for a moment. We’ve gone over those for the last thirty minutes, and I know you can get this. Use your fingers if you have to. What is one plus one?”

Just when she thought Summer was going to tell her an answer, the girl let out a frustrated growl. She threw the slate tablet across the room where it broke in two and ran out of the house. The screen door slammed behind her, making both her and Billy jump in their chairs.

“Well, that didn’t go over very well, did it?” Mia whispered, staring through the door.

“Not really. The teacher used to make her stand up in front of the class and would make fun of her because she couldn’t answer math questions.”

“Oh, dear. I probably shouldn’t have done math today then.”

“It was bound to happen sooner or later. It’s like me and reading. I get the letters in the wrong order all the time.”

Mia frowned. “What do you mean they’re in the wrong order?”

He shrugged. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Can you show me?” She pointed to his slate. “Do you know how to write your name?”

“Sure I can. That was the first thing I learned in school.” With his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, he carefully wrote his name—backward: ylliB.

“Well, isn’t that interesting?” Mia said, her anger growing at how badly the previous teacher had failed these two children. “I think we are going to take a trip to town. Spur-of-the-moment-type of thing. Want to keep me company?”

“Sure I would. Can Summer come, too?”

“If you can find her, she can.”

Mia marched outside and found Josiah, just as he finished nailing up the last rung for the corral fence. “Would you mind hitching up the horse to the wagon? I need to go talk to the teacher in Eufaula about the children.”

He glanced up at the sky with a quick frown. “There’s only a couple hours of light left. Are you sure this can’t wait until tomorrow?”

She propped her fists on her hips and glared at him. “No, it can’t. I’m so mad right now I can’t see straight.”

His lips twitched as if fighting a smile. “Well then, maybe I should be the one to drive. Give me five minutes and we’ll be on our way. I bought a horse from Harjo and borrowed two more, so we can pick those up on the return trip.”

Mia climbed onto the front bench and clasped her hands in her lap, clenching and unclenching her jaw. She couldn’t remember a time when she had been this angry. A dedicated teacher would always try to figure out a way to help a child learn, no matter how difficult it is, and they most definitely would not be disrespectful. Yet, that is what happened.

And this wasn’t the first time she had heard something about how the Indian children were treated. Rumors traveled, even all the way to New York. There had been several traveling teachers who had passed through, but Madam Wigg had never believed their stories. Even in the mercantile, she had overheard a woman talking about her child and something that had happened that day in school. She hadn’t understood…until today. The laughter had been at a Creek child’s expense, not a white child’s.

Billy jumped into the bed of the wagon behind her and grabbed hold of the bench. “I can’t find her, but don’t worry. I checked her bedroom and the quilt is still on her bed, so she hasn’t gone far.”

Mia smiled and patted his small hand. “Thank you.”

The ride to town passed by and before she knew it, she was climbing the stairs into the one-room schoolhouse, which was also the church. The teacher sat behind a desk in the corner of the room, her head tilted down, but from where Mia stood, she could see the wire-rimmed glasses perched smartly on her nose. Her mousy hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and she wore a dark brown jacket that looked a bit too tight, and she could see the matching skirt sticking out from underneath the bottom of the desk.

Mia cleared her throat and marched up to the desk. “Excuse me.”

The teacher glanced up and pushed up her eye glasses, which promptly slid back down her nose. Her face was moon-shaped and she had a double chin. “May I help you?”

“You may. I understand you recommended several students not be allowed to return? Several Creek students?”

The teachers face paled, but Mia gave her credit, she didn’t back down. In fact, she squared her plump shoulders and stood. “I did. They refused to learn anything I taught them. They were nothing but a disruption for the other students.”

Mia’s blood chilled. “I have taught many different students in New York and never in my entire career have I heard anyone refer to a student as a ‘disruption.’ Children, no matter how incorrigible, are precious.”

“You are more than welcome to take on the riff raff of this society, Miss…”

“Mrs. Josiah West.”

“Mrs. West. Because I can promise you they will not be tolerated in this school. Those children are not intelligent enough to learn. They will never amount to anything more than street trash or outlaws. You are more than welcome to them.”

“Those children you so carelessly threw away are caring and very smart. They’re worth everything to me”

“I’d be careful if I were you—they’re little more than savages.”

“You are a cold, heartless woman. I feel sorry for you and the children you teach.” Mia stomped out of the schoolhouse, not seeing where she was going, only knowing she needed to find Josiah. She stood on the top step and stared down at her husband. He smiled up at her. Her anger died away as she lost herself in his dark brown eyes. For the first time in her adult life, she was relying on someone other than herself. In New York, she handled things as they happened without anyone’s help. When had everything changed?